inkblurt

I haven’t sent out any work in years. Even though during grad school I managed to publish in a number of decent journals, I grew weary of the process, and too anxious about writing to write.

I ended up with a backlog of work that I’d never sent anywhere, and here I am six years later, finally trying out a few submissions.

I ran across this very cool online journal, with a fabulous name, and an unexpectedly elegant layout and look. It’s an online journal of dark-fabulist work, both poetry and fiction, called The Harrow. I sent them a little imagistic thing I wrote long ago, but that I’ve often though of when it rains, or when I have to kill more of the freaking little black ants that infest our house and yard. Anyway, it’s not really about those things. It’s short, and kinda haiku-ish, kinda macabre: Four Pauses.

I never post anything about poetry, even though it was at one time my career, of a sort. So, since April is “National Poetry Month” (which is funny as hell, since TS Eliot dissed it so bad by calling it the ‘cruellest’), I figure I’ll reiterate the loveliness of Poetry Daily, a new poem every day. There’s some powerful stuff there. I don’t get to it as often as I should, but whenever I do I feel like I’ve had a good meal. Tasty, every calorie a good one.